from Inquiry, Volume 3, Number 1, Fall 1998, 35-37
© Copyright 1998 Virginia Community College System
Abstract
Teaching sociology by compressed video during a period when there was a temporary shortage of technology support personnel at his college, Lewis Martin faced one too many challenges.
I was born in 1943, one year after Enrich Fermi
split the atom, and my
guess is that God had in mind to spring something of a serious nature on me for whatever I
had done in the last life, or could conceivably do in this one. Since my birth, scientists
have perfected the electronic brain and now call it a computer; and if that wasn’t
bad enough, in 1947 Bell Lab scientists invented the transistor. Then I came to New River
Community College (NRCC) to teach sociology and ran into the thing that was born with
me¯the computer¯ and it too was all grown up. It used to have blinking lights but is far
more devious and subtle today. All of this I was to find out last summer because that was
the first time I came into contact with the computer and frightening array of equipment
probably dreamed up at Bell Labs (also called compressed video). I have checked Genesis,
and at no time, or on any of the seven days of creation, did God make anything like
compressed video; and I am almost as sure as I can be that the devil on his best or worst
day wouldn’t have been able to conceive of it. For every successful
story about using compressed video, there’s most likely an untold story of a failed
attempt: This is my story.
First Attempt-Summer 1997
I volunteered to teach sociology by compressed video. In the summer of 1997, I gave it my best shot, but I was to find I couldn’t easily get there from here even though the equipment is designed to get from here to there. Two LRC people trained me almost every day for two weeks to bring the equipment up and power it down. I was instructed to follow a checklist and got really good at it. Then, the two trainers got pregnant and left when I needed them most, and the director quit and went to VPI.
Before going, the existing compressed video trainer told me that it helps to visit both sites, where possible, so I followed his advice. I went the extra mile (30 to be exact) once a week in the summer to the opposite site, and once every other Monday evening during the following fall semester. The hopes were that the students would feel more included, sharing equal time with me and the compressed video system. I was optimistic that all would work out, even though the college was without its typical compressed video support staff.
However, during my third class, we had a major malfunction and I had to cancel my classes because I had never experienced a major malfunction before. By the third week of summer school, my screen began to get jittery, and the bookstore still did not have enough books in stock. The audio was coming in and out on its own. Each site began adjusting its equipment only to be blown away when the sound returned. The jitteriness (on screen) began to affect different sites at different times, and the camera went out. NRCC’s cameraman followed me around at the sending site because he felt sorry for me and because he was truly concerned. The jitteriness started in earnest on July 1 and continued big time to July 3, and by July 8, it hurt my eyes to watch me watching me, and the students were not inclined to be forgiving. In our attempts to deal with film problems, technicians switched VCRs to see if that would help any. The new VCR was now an old one; we bypassed the new one that came with the equipment.
The tracking ring then went bad (this was not related to the switching incident above), and the equipment did something really creative and took a still-shot of me (I look like Lou Costello ). All my students saw a little fat man with one hand in midair while I continued to walk and talk. They laughed heartily, and I had not told a joke.
Second Attempt-Fall 1997
Then the summer was over, but fall was just around the corner. I vowed to give compressed video my best shot once again. On September 1, the camera became jittery at the sending site (see how technologically correct I am now). By late September, the audio became garbled and was fixed temporarily, but students were becoming frustrated. In October, I had a security problem with a student at the receiving site and had no way of addressing it while some of the other students were demanding tutors. Later the audio began to echo. I was told we needed to replace a faulty piece of equipment costing $1,000. The equipment was then rigged to be passable.
One day I showed a one- hour film on the Amish; I had to run back and forth to the console to pause so I could talk and explain what the picture (which was supposed to be worth 10,000 words) would do for them, but the intended film/discussion didn’t occur because the sound went out and the picture became jittery. At the break many at the distant site never came back because they had headaches. One student chose that time to quit my class. By early November, the sound was garbled as though it was coming through a pillow, and the TV became jittery and videos were unwatchable at the receiving site. When I went to the receiving site in mid-November and sent back the transmission, there was bad background noise at the receiving site, which had been the host site a week before. In early December, we fixed the camera on the door so we could catch anyone leaving.
When the semester was over, I knew I would never teach another course by compressed video. My boss Dr. White took me to the Smokies on a camping trip. When I saw a turkey looking at me looking at him, all thoughts of compressed video vanished, and I was happy. I took out my camera for my best shot of the year.
Lewis Martin is an assistant professor with 25 years of experience at New River Community College. He has a B.A. in sociology from Lenoir Rhyne College and and M.A. in sociology and community college education from Appalachian State University.